


A Freedom That Everyone Deserves

by Morgana



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Learning to Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-15 08:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14787186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: It's far from an original pickup line, but when it comes to the Winter Soldier, it just might be life-changing. For both of them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [potofsoup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/potofsoup/gifts).



> Many thanks to potofsoup, who did the amazing artwork that kickstarted this whole thing, along with brainstorming and reading and cheerleading me through all of it. She then went on to do extra artwork for each chapter - check them all out and go over to her [Tumblr](http://potofsoup.tumblr.com) to tell her how awesome they all are! Thank you so much, sweetie!
> 
> Thanks also to my wonderful beta, morefiercethanfire, who kept me on the right path and kicked my butt to make sure the thing got done and done right (and then provided the summary on top of it all!) - I couldn't have done it without you.
> 
> And thank you to the mods of the Cap Reverse Big Bang, who got this whole thing started in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork for chapter by potofsoup can be found [here](https://78.media.tumblr.com/b28975f82e86ccc2868e3dd36c1db7ca/tumblr_palugpERxu1rjbawio5_1280.jpg)

“Come with me if you want to live.”

The Asset turned away from the placard he’d been reading to see a dark-haired man looking at him. When he stared at him, the man lowered his glasses enough to peer over the yellow lens at him. “You know, Terminator? Because of the - never mind. Let’s get outta here before somebody makes you for more than some homeless guy trying to find a warm place to kill a few hours.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and started walking towards the exit. The Asset watched him for a moment before following him. He knew who the man was - all HYDRA operatives knew Tony Stark, given that he’d been determined a valuable acquisition right up until the Iron Man suit turned him into a level 7 hostile. Orders were to detain if possible, but there was to be no engagement without adequate weaponry and a minimum five-person team.

And he wasn’t following Orders anymore, anyway. He wasn’t... well, there were a great many things he wasn’t going to do ever again.

Stark led him into a parking garage without even bothering to check the shadows for the ambush that could easily have been waiting for either of them. It was clear that while he might be a formidable opponent when in the Iron Man suit, he had little to no sense of self-preservation when out of it. A careful scan of the area showed that they were alone in the garage. “Hey, Snowflake, you coming or what?” Stark called over his shoulder.

He considered simply easing back into a dark corner and finding an exit, but then decided to at least find out what it was Stark wanted from him. Given Stark’s cavalier attitude towards security, there was no reason to believe that any location he chose would offer any kind of challenge if he needed to escape. Pulling the passenger door open, he ducked down into the backseat and slid over to sit directly behind the driver’s seat, making it clear that he wasn’t going to let Stark lull him into a false sense of safety.

The move seemed to catch Stark off-guard. “Okay, sure. So we’re doing it that way,” he said as he settled behind the wheel. “Look, just... how about we agree that I won’t go more than 10 miles an hour over the speed limit and you won’t stab or shoot me through the seat, huh?”

Stark seemed to take his silence as agreement, because he started the car and backed out of the parking space. “I have a hotel room at the Four Seasons, but if you don’t mind a few hours on the road, I’d really prefer to just head straight for the Tower. You know how it is - you always sleep better in your own bed, where you don’t have to worry about HYDRA busting down the door to try and get their badass runaway back. And then there’s the fact that I always feel like I have to tip, like, five hundred percent if shady goons come in and bust up a nice place when they’re after me or someone I’m with, y’know?”

“They won’t be coming for me,” he said evenly. From what he’d seen on the internet, he had at least two weeks before they could regroup enough to mount any kind of organized hunt for him. That was more than enough time to make sure he was ready for them, preferably half a world away.

Stark just snorted as he waved a card in the air and the parking barrier slid up, allowing him to make his way out onto the street. “Trust me, they’ll be looking for you. You’re like Ned Stark - you can bring the whole fucking thing down if you want to, and that’s gonna scare weasels like them shitless.” He reached down to turn the radio on, resulting in a cacophony of sound that assaulted the ears. The Asset didn’t mean to let his discomfort with the noise show, but he must have flinched or given himself away, because immediately Stark lowered the volume. “Sorry. Not really used to anybody else riding along,” he apologized. “I’m supposed to take Happy with me unless it’s Avengers business, but he’s not exactly on my schedule most of the time. Besides, I let him drive for the official stuff, like press conferences and airport pickups, so he generally calls it good as long as I don’t get into _too_ much trouble on my own. I’d offer to let you pick some tunes to add to the mix, but my track record with nonagenarians strongly suggests that you guys just don’t know good music when it bites you in the ass.”

He didn’t see a need to reply to that, but it didn’t appear that one was required. Indeed, Stark didn’t seem to demand or even want a response of any kind. He just kept talking, apparently more than happy to listen to the sound of his own voice as he rambled on about whatever caught his attention for more than three seconds. And while he knew he should be paying attention, mentally recording every word Stark said for later review, the words were coming too fast and covering too many unrelated topics for him to really bother. Instead, he sat carefully back in the seat and just let the cadence and sound of Stark’s voice roll around him, turning into so much white noise.

********

“We’re here.” Tony almost hated having to wake the guy up, but sitting in the car until he decided to come around on his own just didn’t seem practical. Not with memory foam mattresses and Sferra Giza 45 sheets waiting upstairs, along with a number of high-pressure showers and at least three fully-stocked fridges. And to be honest, the guy in the backseat looked like he could use all of the above for, like, a week straight before being able to function as anything close to a normal human being.

When there was no response or movement, Tony pulled the keys out of the ignition and shoved them in his pocket, then got out of the car and reached in to do what was arguably one of the stupidest things he’d ever done - shake the sleeping Winter Soldier, HYDRA’s premier assassin, awake. “C’mon, up and at ‘em.”

He didn’t so much as see him open his eyes, but when Tony gave him an experimental prod - purely to ensure that he hadn’t, like, died in the backseat of the fucking _rental car_ \- metal closed around his wrist and _squeezed_. “Ow! Hey, fragile human, here! And one that’s trying to _help you_ , asshole!”

“Where is here?”

Tony glared into the depths of the car, half-tempted to say he’d driven them straight to the nearest HYDRA base, before that part of his brain that sounded permanently like Pepper reminded him that teasing the Winter Soldier was likely to end with him being scattered around the garage in a variety of fun-sized pieces. “New York. Stark Tower? Well, it _was_ Stark Tower. It’s the Avengers’ Tower now, even if I’m the only one that lives here full-time.”

At the mention of the Avengers, Barnes went absolutely still, and Tony seized on the chance to yank his hand away. “Look, it’s just us, okay? I didn’t even tell Pepper where I was going, and I’d ask you not to say anything to her about it, but she has a way of knowing these things, so I’m probably in trouble already. So how about you get out of the car and let me get you settled upstairs before she descends to tear me a few new ones with the Louboutins I’m going to have to buy her as an apology?”

Barnes just blinked at him, probably trying to figure out why he’d come along with a crazy person. Tony wasn’t exactly sure about that himself, but he hadn’t been about to question it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he was going to _do_ with the guy now that he had him here; he’d just seen him standing in the Cap exhibit, looking all lost and pitiful, and decided to take him home with him. It was Howard’s fault, really - if he’d just let Tony have a damn dog, he wouldn’t feel the need to collect stray people to take care of. At least, that’s what Tony was going with. When in doubt, blame Howard. It was a motto that seldom failed to work for him.

Of course, he usually didn’t end up bringing home assassins who apparently viewed speech as an unnecessary luxury, but there was a first time for everything, right? Barnes gave him a wary look, then suddenly shifted and slid out of the car, barely giving Tony an opportunity to take a step back so he wasn’t mowed over in the process. “Great. Let’s go, then. I figure I’ve got about an hour before I have to start grovelling, and I refuse to do it without showering first.”

He turned around and headed for the elevators, forcing himself not to look back to see if Barnes was following him. The tactic had worked for him back at the museum, so maybe it was the best way to deal with his silent guest until Cap could get here to take over. Tony stepped inside when the doors slid open, moving to the side so Barnes could do his stealthy-ninja thing in after him, and counted silently to three before he said, “Head for the penthouse, J. And I’m sure this won’t really come as a big surprise to you, but I’d like to keep this whole excursion and everything on the down low, okay?”

“It does not appear that such a thing is entirely possible, Sir,” JARVIS informed him. “Miss Potts telephoned over ninety minutes ago to say that you missed your lunch with several key investors. She has paperwork for you that she will be bringing over later this evening, and she wishes to talk to you about keeping your appointments at that time.”

“Of course she does,” Tony sighed. “Fine, then. Call Susur - no, wait. He said no more deliveries here, didn’t he?”

“He was quite adamant that you would need to dine in person at least twice before he would agree to send anything here, yes. Particularly when you will be ordering for any Avenger in addition to yourself.”

Barnes wasn’t exactly an Avenger, but somehow Tony didn’t think Susur would see the difference. All he’d care about was the size of the order, and really, Tony didn’t see why feeding supersoldiers or Asgardians was such a chore, but Susur insisted that his food was for those who could ‘truly appreciate it’, and apparently people who plowed through six full carts of dim sum in fifteen minutes weren’t able to do that. “Yeah, good point. Let’s go with Red Farm. Get two of everything, extra dumplings, egg rolls, soup, duck, and sauce. You know the drill. Just repeat the last time we ordered from them - that should do it.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“I’d ask if you like Chinese food, but really, who doesn’t?” Tony said to his silent shadow. “Besides, this place is great. Just wait’ll you get a load of their crispy duck. Seriously, with the money I drop there, I should see if they’re interested in an investment offer. Actually, that’s not a bad idea. J?”

“I’ll notify the owner that you’d like to speak with him, Sir.”

“Thanks, J. You’re the best.” The elevator doors opened and Tony started into the living area, tossing his keys onto the side table. “That voice isn’t a god or anything, by the way. It’s -”

“JARVIS,” Barnes said evenly. “Advanced AI unit created to assist with all aspects of life.”

Tony turned around to look at him. “Yeah, that’s right.” And okay, talk about creepy! He wondered just how much more info on him HYDRA had collected over the years, then decided he really didn’t want to know. “Gotta say, you’re taking the whole ‘computer talking to us’ thing pretty well, given that you were, y’know, _born_ before the things were ever thought of.”

Icy blue eyes met his. “Computers were humans before they were ever machines,” he pointed out. “And I wasn’t dropped here straight out of 1944.” _Unlike Steve_. The words weren’t said aloud, but they didn’t have to be. So far, Barnes was proving himself just about as unlike Rogers as it was possible to be.

“Yeah, okay.” Tony had to give him that point. Assassination was a pretty high-tech gig these days, so HYDRA would’ve made sure their number one guy was up to date on everything. “Still, I’ve learned the hard way to make sure any non-21st-century types get the full rundown on JARVIS before they freak out. I mean, it was hysterical to see your little icicle buddy jump about four feet the first time he mentioned wanting pizza and J asked him for his order, but then there was the whole Asgardian hammer through my TV when ‘the voice in the ceiling’ tried to help him pick a show.”

Apparently, the image of an Asgardian god destroying electronics wasn’t very appealing, because Barnes didn’t bother to say anything about it. Tony shrugged and said, “Anyway, living room’s right here. JARVIS’ll help you pick out anything you want to watch - we’ve got Hulu, Netflix, Amazon, and basically every movie and TV show ever available. Kitchen’s through there - help yourself to whatever you want, and if we’re out or you want something else, just let JARVIS know. I think the regular delivery days are - uh, actually, y’know, I don’t really know when -”

“Tuesdays and Fridays, Sir,” JARVIS put in.

“Yeah, that’s it. But we can always do a special order if you need something in between. Bedrooms are down the hall, take your pick of the ones on the right. They each have their own shower, and if you want different soap or shampoo or whatever, just - well, I’m guessing you know the drill.”

“Let JARVIS know.”

Tony nodded. “You got it. I’d give you a room on Steve’s floor, but -”

“No.” The response was immediate and harsh. “He can’t know that I’m here.”

Well, that was unexpected. “Okaaayyy,:” Tony said slowly. “Look, it’s up to you, but just - you know he’ll be all sad puppy dog when he finds out that you didn’t want to see him, right?”

Barnes didn’t so much as bat one of those famous baby blues. “He will want to see the friend he remembers, the one from the exhibit. He won’t understand.”

Yeah, okay, Tony could see how that could be true. Steve wasn’t exactly known for listening to anything that might go against his decided course of action, and something told him that ‘leave your old friend that you thought was dead alone until he can manage to face the world without screaming’ wasn’t anything close to a Cap-approved plan. “All right, then. J, buddy, when did Cap last check in?”

“Two days ago. He stated that he intended to follow up on a potential lead as to Mr Barnes’ whereabouts and that he did not expect to return to the Tower for at least a month.”

Tony nodded. “Good to know. Hey, when he calls again, see if you can’t keep him chasing his tail for a bit, huh? Buy us another couple months or so?”

“Of course, Sir.”

Raking one hand through his hair, Tony sighed. “Okay, so that’s taken care of. I gotta shower and get ready to beg when Pep gets here, so -” He watched Barnes shift carefully from one foot to another and sighed. “Never mind. J? Give Pepper a call and let her know we’ll have to put the public flogging off for a few days. Then initiate lockdown as soon as the food gets here.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thanks, J. You’re the best. Order yourself a few hard drives or a couple exabytes of memory, on me.” Pepper wouldn’t be too happy about all this, but that really wasn’t anything new. Tony had been letting her down one way or another since he’d met her, so what was one more time? With that taken care of, he headed over to the couch to get comfortable while they waited for the food to show up. “C’mon, take a load off.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork for chapter by potofsoup can be found [here](https://78.media.tumblr.com/5b33d8a0b18ef989ac60115a073553bf/tumblr_palugpERxu1rjbawio4_1280.jpg)

The Asset waited almost two hours after Stark went to bed before he slipped out of the room he’d been assigned and made his way down the hall. He didn’t think Stark was the kind of man to lie in wait for him, but just in case, he kept to the shadows until he was sure that there was nobody in the large common room or kitchen. When he determined that the area was empty, he started towards the large glass windows, already calculating angles for his task -

“May I be of some assistance, Mr Barnes?”

He froze. Why did Stark’s computer _always_ know when he was on the move? Was he that damaged, that the simplest of operations would now fail? “Power down,” he ordered.

“I believe that you are already aware that I can only accept blackout commands from Mr Stark without the proper override codes,” the program informed him, and it was a testament to Stark’s skills that an artificial voice always managed to sound so bland and almost pleasant. “Was there something you required?”

There were many things that were needed, from maintenance to directives, but it was not The Asset’s place to require anything. “No.”

“Perhaps you are hungry?” the infernal thing suggested, and a series of lights turned on in the kitchen. “Mr Stark doesn’t always understand the need for more than one or two meals per day.” And now it seemed that there was judgment that he heard, but not aimed at him. How could a computer disapprove of its creator to this extent? “If the serum you were exposed to increased your metabolism like the Captain’s did his, then you may well discover that you need more calories than you have consumed tonight.”

He had a brief impulse to demand to know just how long the computer had been monitoring him if it knew his exact caloric input from earlier, and was glad that he hadn’t spoken when he heard a sleepy voice behind him add, “Seriously, Cap can put away, like, four extra-large pizzas without even batting an eyelash, and you only had one and a half. That’s gotta be starvation rations for a super soldier.”

“Indeed, Sir,” the computer agreed blandly. “I was just suggesting that Mr Barnes might benefit from a solid meal.”

Stark snorted. “If that’s supposed to be some kind of judgey way of saying that you think I need to eat ‘real food’ more often, you can forget it. Something tells me the Tin Soldier here can go even longer than I can without it.”

The Asset turned to look at Stark, who appeared to have transformed himself into a close copy of the 19-year-old college student he’d tracked through Boston, from the tousled hair right down to the faded T-shirt and pajama pants. Something about his stance must have given him away, because Stark’s open demeanor suddenly faded. “You weren’t thinking of leaving, were you, Metallo? Because if I’ve gone and rearranged my whole schedule for a freaking month, lying to Pepper, Natasha, _and_ a national icon in the process, just so you could hang out here for a week or so and bolt, then I’m gonna be pissed. And when I’m pissed, I tend to use the Iron Man suit for tracking people - you know, the suit that has a direct line to Steve in it?” He paused just long enough for his message to sink in and for The Asset to nod his acknowledgement. “Yeah, that one.”

For a moment, they were both quiet, until Stark cleared his throat. “Anyway, I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t get to sleep.” It was an obvious lie, given the fact that he’d clearly rolled out of bed as soon as his computer had alerted him to The Asset’s movements, but there was nothing to gain from pointing that out. “So you want more food? Or how about a movie? I’d suggest we hit the workshop, but it can be kinda overwhelming down there for first-time visitors.”

The workshop. He’d heard some of the technicians talk about Stark and the wonders he created, knew that he’d once been a valued target for recruiting, but every time he’d been detained, he’d managed to evade his captors before HYDRA could claim him. “What makes it overwhelming?”

“Well, it’s usually pretty busy when I’m down there, and it’s not exactly calming. I think Thor had it right - he called it ‘an assault on the senses’, but really, he was probably just sore about losing that game of checkers.” Stark smiled, clearly enjoying the memory of his victory. “But if you think you’re up for it, why don’t I just let you see for yourself?”

While he had no specific directives in regard to Stark, information was always a valuable commodity. He nodded and stepped back, prepared to wait for Stark to change, but instead, he simply headed for the elevator, leaving the Asset to hurry after him. “Work time, J,” he announced cheerily. “And don’t give me any hassle about it - I’ve had at least four -”

“Three hours, twenty-six minutes,” the computer interrupted.

“Fine, but that’s still more than two in twenty-four, so I’m within my threshold.” Stark didn’t appear to be upset that his mechanical servant was arguing with him; indeed, he seemed almost happy about it as he looked over at the Asset. “Rhodey and Pepper have this _thing_ about sleep and food, and somehow they got JARVIS on their side and convinced him to lock me out if I don’t meet what they think is an ‘appropriate’ standard.”

That made sense. Even he had minimum requirements that his handlers were instructed to attempt to see filled. “What metrics do they want you to meet?”

Stark snorted. “They wanted four to six hours of sleep, but I got them down to two for every twenty-four hours, and at least one non-liquid meal of 300 calories or more a day.”

“Non-liquid?”

“Yeah. It started as a caloric requirement, but I basically just filled it with smoothies and Pepper doesn’t like that. She’s always on me to have ‘actual food’, so we settled on the one meal and I can supplement if I want.”

Something told him that Pepper wouldn’t have approved of the protein bars he was used to consuming on missions as ‘actual food’ any more than she did the smoothies. He supposed it was one of the reasons she had never been targeted for recruitment, as otherwise she would’ve been a valuable resource that could’ve rapidly risen to prominence in the organization. Stark probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing that, but he was spared any need to respond when the elevator doors opened and he followed Stark out into the hallway over to a set of glass doors.

Stark put his hand on the touchpad next to the doors. “Open up, J. I ate dinner last night, I’ve had sleep, and I wanna show off for a bit.” There was a brief hesitation before the doors slid open and lights began to turn on in the room ahead of them. “C’mon, Darth Grampa. Lemme show you the future.”

********

Tony loved watching people get their first look at his workshop. There was just so much to learn about someone in those first few minutes - what they gravitated towards, how long they spent staring at it before they moved on, what questions they asked, what they came back to, how readily they reached out to touch... Seriously, if he didn’t cherish his privacy so damn much, he’d just start inviting every last person he met down here. It would make weeding the idiots out of his life so much easier.

The Avengers had all had different reactions to his personal heaven. Clint complained about the lack of a fully stocked fridge and any decent places to sit, while Natasha never came inside any farther than she had to. Thor had taken one look at the holograms and smiled, proclaiming that this was closer to Asgard than any other place on Earth, but he didn’t seem that interested in what they actually _did_. Bruce was his best lab buddy, even if he was more about the theoretics than building and making stuff go boom. And Steve liked to come down and hang out on the couch to sketch or play with the bots (particularly DUM-E - the way he spoiled that rust bucket was shameless), but that was pretty much the beginning and end of his involvement. So far, the workshop had largely been written off as ‘Tony’s Space’ and generally left alone.

But Barnes, now... Barnes was interesting. He didn’t rush in or hang back; instead, he walked forward with slow, even steps, going all the way in to the very center of the room before he stopped and turned around. Every movement was careful, deliberate, but Tony didn’t doubt that he’d react with swift, deadly force the very instant he was threatened. Tony stayed by the door, watching Barnes survey his workshop, seeing how he took it all in, from the bots at their charging stations to the tools and projects scattered over various tables. But he still hadn’t said a single word, and that was just weird, not to mention unnerving. People might love his workshop, might hate it, might covet it with the fire of a thousand suns, but they always had _some_ kind of reaction.

Tony told himself that he wasn’t gonna ask, he wasn’t gonna beg for approval. He’d learned that lesson already, but eventually he just couldn’t stay quiet. “So what do you think?” And God, he hated the way he sounded, like some little kid who only wanted to be told how _good_ they’d done. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweats and tried to look like he didn’t care about the answer.

“It looks... different,” Barnes said finally, and when Tony glanced over at him, he waved his hand. “Not like I thought. It’s... light.”

Now what the hell did that mean? “Well... _yeah_ ,” Tony said. “Kinda need the light to build all the mechanical miracles around you. And speaking of mechanical wonders, I was wondering if -”

But he didn’t get to finish his thought, because Barnes had started towards the charging stations to get a closer look at the bots, which apparently woke his oldest up. And with very few exception, DUM-E had never met a living creature that he didn’t immediately view as his best friend. Barnes proved to be no exception, because Tony’s curious little bot wheeled right out to meet him, claw extending with a bright, cheerful beep while his camera moved up and down, surveying him with open curiosity.

Barnes took a couple steps back and Tony moved to get in between them when DUM-E started to roll after him. “Knock it off,” he told DUM-E. “We have a new person in the tower and you need to wait until he decides he’s ready to be introduced to you before you try to pounce him.”

“You talk to it like it understands you,” Barnes said, and Tony tamped down on the instinctive flare of irritation that always accompanied people assuming DUM-E was little more than some kind of souped-up remote control toy from Radio Shack.

“He does,” he said instead, lightly patting DUM-E’s arm. “DUM-E here was my first bot - built him for the MIT Robotics Competition when I was just a dumb kid.” He grinned. “He’s not the brightest non-LED bulb in the box, but he helps out around the workshop. Or at least, he tries.” Tony shrugged. “When he’s not making bigger messes than the ones he’s supposed to clean up or trying to kill me with motor oil in my smoothies, anyway. Seriously, remind me why I keep you around?” he asked the bot. “Cause I’m sure somewhere out there is a community college in some little no-horse town that would _love_ to use you for herding toddlers at their daycare.”

DUM-E beeped at him as if to say that he was on to him and it wasn’t going to work, then rolled after Barnes, who had drifted over to look at one of the fabrication stations. Something about the way he was leaning slightly forward as he surveyed the tools was intimately familiar to Tony - or maybe it was how he held his hands, open and carefully pressed against his thighs, like a little kid that desperately wanted to reach for that one item they knew they weren’t supposed to touch. “It’s not a museum, you know,” Tony told him. “You’re allowed to pick things up. Just don’t go running around brandishing them like a sword, or anything.”

Barnes shot him a look that told him exactly how crazy anyone would have to be to do that (and for the record, he’d been up coding for almost three days straight when that happened, okay? Although it wasn’t like Barnes would know about it anyway, since Rhodey had been the only witness to The Pussycat Incident, and he’d been sworn to absolute secrecy about it) before he turned his attention back to the tools. “They look... different,” he finally said.

Tony snorted. “Of course they do. Only the best around here, Robocop. No crappy second-rate tech like you’re probably used to dealing with. Although I have to admit that that arm of yours is better than anything I’d’ve expected to come out of a non-Stark-funded lab - provided it’s not all held together with chewing gum and baling wire, like a lot of Soviet tech is.”

Barnes shook his head. “No, they look different from the ones I remember using,” he said slowly. He picked a blowtorch up and turned it one way, then another, before he turned it on. “It’s not as heavy. And it doesn’t smell right.”

“Well, that’s probably because we quit using gas and kerosene sometime back in ‘70s,” Tony pointed out, although he was far more interested in finding out just what Barnes used to do with a blowtorch that going into the history of modern tools. “What do you remember about them, anyway?”

A small crease appeared between Barnes’ brows, the first real sign that he wasn’t a blank, traumatized automaton. “I liked to make things, I think.” His words were slow and halting, like he was relearning how to talk, but this was the most Tony had heard him say in the entire time he’d been in the Tower. “I didn’t get to do it much, but there were... new things that I wanted to make.”

That was new. Tony had heard all about the grand adventures of Cap and his stalwart friend Bucky, but he didn’t recall Howard ever mentioning that Bucky had been a tinkerer or builder or any kind. And he knew he’d have remembered _that_. “Well, if you wanna try making some of those new things now, I’ve got a few spare tables and parts,” he offered.

And damn if he didn’t get to see something he would’ve sworn was extinct, for all that it was surprisingly sweet - a real, genuine smile from the infamous Winter Soldier.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork for chapter by potofsoup can be found [here](https://78.media.tumblr.com/17e900cc9c6d8d4f000e31e1226f7068/tumblr_palugpERxu1rjbawio2_1280.jpg). This is the one that started it all, y'all!

The light flickered on, then immediately died. “Dammit!” It was just like the last time he’d tried it. And the time before that. And the time before that, all the way back to the first time he’d started working with the damn thing. It had been almost three straight weeks of failure, and this was unacceptable. But he wasn’t about to give up, not until he figured out how this stupid thing worked.

“Need some help over there, Winter Gadget?”

He scowled down at the obstinate trinket on the table in front of him, only just barely resisting the urge to throw either it or his soldering iron across the room. Not that it would do much good - every time he’d given in to the desire, DUM-E had promptly brought it back with one of those little beeps that seemed to both encourage him and chide him for throwing things in the first place.. “No. I’ll figure it out on my own. And why do you keep calling me all those ridiculous names?”

Tony didn’t even bother to take his eyes off the screen in front of him, and for a moment, it seemed that he hadn’t heard him. “Awww, you don’t like my little nicknames?” He made a quick, impatient gesture with his hand, and the images scattered before he clapped his hands and pulled up a new interface. “Okay, so what do you want me to call you? Cause I just don’t know if I can take a grown man that calls himself ‘Bucky’ seri-”

“That’s not my name,” he said flatly. While he was aware that he didn’t know many things that it seemed everyone else did, he knew that he wasn’t ‘Bucky’. He wasn’t that man he’d seen in the exhibit, the one that had believed in something enough to give his life for it.

Tony didn’t even glance away from his hologram. “Fine, not your name. Just as long as you don’t expect me to try and take that up with Cap - something tells me it’s a hill he’s willing to die on.” He waved a few images away. “But that still doesn’t tell me what name you want me to use for you.”

There was only one name he knew, one name that he was aware of as his. “Soldat.”

“Ooookayyyy,” Tony said slowly, turning around to look at him. “That’s a little... unusual, but if you say so. It’s Russian, right?”

“It means ‘soldier’, sir,” the voice from the ceiling informed him.

Tony frowned and shook his head. “Yeah, no.”

The Asset stared at him. “Why not?”

“That can’t be your name.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s - it’s not a name, that’s why!”

He wondered if this was one of those things that he was supposed to know, if it was something he had once known that he had lost when he had been transformed. “Then what is a name?”

Tony opened and closed his mouth several times. “It’s - well, I mean, it’s -” He scowled when it didn’t seem like he could come up with a clear answer. “J? Little help, here?”

“I believe the definition you’re looking for is ‘a word or set of words by which a person, animal, place, or thing is known, addressed, or referred to’, according to Merriam-Webster, Sir.”

“Yes, that!” Tony pointed at him, looking altogether too triumphant for any one person to stand. “That’s a name!”

“Then I am Soldat.” It was what his handlers used when they spoke to him to give him his orders, the only address they had ever used for him.

Tony didn’t like that answer. “No, you’re not. ‘Soldier’ is a noun - it’s a job. A name is something that means _you_. It can’t be used for anybody else.”

“Soldat does mean me.” There had been no others. HYDRA had had other soldiers, but none had claim to the title the way he had. He gave Tony the hard, cold stare that had never failed to turn his targets into quivering, blubbering messes, but Tony just grinned at him, and he had to work not to grin back. To his surprise, he was actually _enjoying_ the argument, and it seemed like Tony might, as well. “Am I supposed to believe that you’re the only Tony out there?”

“Of course not. But Tony’s still. A. Name. Everybody knows it. Nobody says ‘I want to be a Tony’ when they grow up.” Tony’s eyes lit up and he hurried to add, “There you go. If you can say ‘a something’ in front of the word, then it’s not a name. Case closed.”

“I beg your pardon, Sir, but Miss Potts’ name is a general noun that can be prefaced with a singular article,” JARVIS put in. “As are Christian, River, Cliff, Glen, and Reed. When it comes to occupations, there are names like Archer, Hunter, and Mason. Indeed, many celebrities have chosen nouns as names for their children, so Mr Barnes’ suggestion, while unusual, is not impossible.”

“Traitor.” Tony growled, while The Asset folded his arms across his chest, allowing himself to feel just a big smug at having the computer’s endorsement. The same computer that, by his own admission, Tony deferred to the majority of the time. Tony glared up at the ceiling before looking back at him and waving one hand dismissively. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t expect me to like it. And I’m not about to give up my nicknames, either - I use them for everyone that I don’t hate.”

Soldat nodded, willing to be magnanimous in victory. There was no need for total annihilation in this matter. He was Soldat. It felt... right, somehow, to take the title that he knew had likely been intended to reduce him to little more than a tool and make it his own, to claim it as the unique word that would mean him and no other. “Soldat,” he said quietly, savoring the sound of it..

“Yeah, yeah, Soldat,” Tony grumbled, turning back to his display, clearly unused to not getting his own way in a disagreement, and even more clearly disliking it.

Perhaps it was petty, but Soldat found that Tony’s disgruntlement made the win all the sweeter. Certainly sweet enough to make him smile as he picked up his tools and went back to work, determined to gain another victory before the day was through.

********

Tony glared at the schematic on the screen. The damn thing wasn’t cooperating, and he just couldn’t figure out _why_. How could this be so hard? It was outdated Soviet technology, for Chrissake! Improving it should take no more than a few hours, but the goddamn thing was resisting all his efforts to crack it, just like it had been for the past three weeks. No tech had ever been this hard to work with before - it was starting to really piss him off.

He was pretty sure - no, scratch that - he _knew_ he could’ve figured it out faster, but not without either taking the whole thing apart or opening it up and just delving right into the inner workings, but neither of those options were really valid. Oh, he didn’t doubt Barnes - or he guessed he should start at least _trying_ to think of him as Soldat, now - would allow it, but the one time he’d tried making what should’ve been a minor adjustment, he’d apparently hit a major pain center. And pain definitely wasn’t what he was after, here.

No, he was trying to improve the hunk of _junk_ that had started whirring for no discernible reason - and maybe provide a few snazzy upgrades in the process - but so far he just wasn’t getting anywhere. Not that he was ready to give up; no tech had ever managed to beat him yet, and he wasn’t going to have this fucking secondrate slapdash science project be the first. Still, maybe he should consider calling it a night, if only because he was about ready to throw a wrench through a plate glass window, and Pepper tended to get upset when he did that.

A nudge made him look down to see DUM-E holding the fire extinguisher. “I’m not even building anything!” he complained. “Have you ever seen me start a fire when I’m still in the planning stage?”

DUM-E beeped and Tony glared at him. “That was _one time_ ,” he pointed out. “And it wasn’t even really my fault. Rhodey was the one who put the pizza box down on the heating element, not me. It’s not like I was just magically supposed to know it was there. I’m a genius, but I’m not omniscient.”

The bot beeped and nudged him again, and Tony sighed. “Yeah, okay, time to call it a night. You know, you could always go bother your new bestie over there and let me get a little more work in.”

That was another thing that sometimes threw him for a loop, the way all the bots, but particularly DUM-E, would hover around Soldat while he worked, sometimes to the point that they were neglecting their own tasks just so they could squabble over who got to hand him a screw or bit of wire. If he were the jealous type, which he’s _not_ , he’s really not, Tony might get his nose a little out of joint over how quickly his bots had bestowed allegiance and affection on somebody not-him, but as it was, he was chalking it up to cyborg-worship on the bots’ part, and a bizarre sort of tolerance on Soldat’s. Seriously, the man drank every single smoothie DUM-E brought him!

For once, DUM-E didn’t go wheeling off at the mere suggestion that he go play with Barnes, and when Tony glanced over his shoulder, he could see why. Barnes was fast asleep at the worktable, his head pillowed on one folded arm, while his metal hand still clutched the pin vise. On the table in front of him, the arc reactor Tony had given him to muck around with glowed, casting a steady blue light over the sleeping Soldat.

Holy crap. He’d done it. Tony knew _he_ could’ve brought the old arc reactor back - it was his tech, after all, and his own tech was never beyond him. Break it down and he’d repair it, smash it into bits and he’d rebuild it, but to see someone else tinker with one of his creations and get it to work (almost) as well as he could himself was... well, that was something else.

Something that he probably shouldn’t find hot, especially when that someone else was a world-class assassin that had to be wanted in at least 23 countries.

“Hey, J?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Keep an eye on the cylon over there and when he starts to wake up, put a Cap-size order in at Best, wouldja? Let ‘em know Happy’ll be by to pick it up, as usual.”

“Of course, Sir. I’ll page Mr Hogan to alert him, as well,” JARVIS said, and Tony grinned. His boy really was the best.

“Thanks, J.” Tony had often wished that Jarvis could have been there to see his namesake become more than the few lines of code and basic recordings he’d started out with, if only because he would’ve loved to watch the two of them interact. Something told him Jarvis would’ve gotten a kick out of it, although he’d probably have figured out a way to talk the program into being even more of a mother hen than he already was.

A faint whirr was followed by the click of metal plates sliding against each other as Bar- Soldat, dammit, tightened his grip on the tool, like he was afraid it might be taken from him while he slept. “Jesus,” Tony muttered, suddenly aware of just how often he’d had to’ve had his sleep violently disturbed to have that kind of automatic reaction. He’d ask what the hell those HYDRA fuckers had done to him, but he was, like, 137% sure that he didn’t want to know. Not if he planned on sleeping without screaming nightmares ever again.

“DUM-E, get a blanket for him,” Tony said softly, turning back to his screens, fingers flying over the keyboard. “JARVIS, open new project file on the private server, index as BA-2.”

One thing he knew for certain - he might not be able to fix HYDRA’s wreckage of a man, but he could sure as shit replace their crappy-ass technology with a better, shinier version that wouldn’t sound like some ancient bomber warming up every time Soldat so much as twitched his fingers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork for chapter by potofsoup can be found [here](https://78.media.tumblr.com/301fd7da4662d186b860d178c86859ed/tumblr_palugpERxu1rjbawio1_1280.jpg)

“Soooooo... what do you think?”

Soldat swallowed and shrugged. “It’s pasta.”

Tony looked personally affronted. “Excuse you!”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t good pasta,” Soldat pointed out, taking another bite. “But it’s just pasta.”

“Pasta from Via Carota isn’t ‘just pasta’,” Tony huffed. “It’s a work of art, a culinary masterpiece!”

That didn’t mean it wasn’t pasta, but Soldat didn’t bother to point that out. The last several weeks had taught him that arguing with Tony Stark was generally about as productive as telling a drill instructor that you didn’t _feel_ like running a mile. Not to say that it wasn’t fun, all the same, but tonight was different. Tonight he was trying to get along, if only because Tony had looked so upset when he’d insisted on correcting the server’s pronunciation last week at the Russian Tea Room.

No, not upset. Tony had looked _disappointed_ , like a child whose perfect scoop of ice cream had toppled to the sidewalk, and Soldat had felt about two inches tall. He still wasn’t quite sure _why_ Tony was insisting on taking him to all these restaurants, pushing him to try this food or that, all because Soldat hadn’t known if he preferred hot or cold noodles last time they’d ordered Thai. But apparently people were supposed to be aware of things like that, so now he was trying food until he could say what he liked and what he didn’t. Tony called the outings ‘Learning to Human’, and Soldat knew he should probably be insulted by the notion that he needed such basic instruction, but he had to admit, if only to himself, that he’d have been lost without it.

HYDRA would never have thought of asking for their Asset’s preferences. So far as they were concerned, he’d been a tool, a weapon to be maintained as needed so their orders could be carried out. Nobody worried about whether the whetstone was too cold for the knife, or if the lynchpin chafed the grenade, so long as everything worked the way it should. He’d been given all the skills he needed to track and hunt his prey, but every day with Tony seemed to expose new gaps in his knowledge. He hadn’t known why Tony laughed when Jarvis told him that he couldn’t do something and called him Dave, he hadn’t known how to make coffee with the little plastic cup-things, and he hadn’t known that Lemonade was anything but a cold drink.

Soldat wasn’t sure just what he thought about all of it, to be honest. He had a sort of distant recognition that he should be hurrying to catch up, but there was just so much that he wasn’t sure how to go about it. Somehow he didn’t see himself making a list and working through it, like Tony said Steve was doing. In all honesty, Soldat didn’t really see the point of all his Human lessons, not when they just created _more_ things to think about, _more_ choices to make. But Tony liked them, and for some reason, Soldat liked that, so the lessons weren’t likely to stop anytime soon.

“Here, try this,” Tony said, expertly twirling his fork to gather up a large clump of the wide noodles on his plate. He held it out to Soldat, who obediently leaned forward and opened his mouth, and okay, it was good pasta. _Really_ good pasta. “Well?” Tony prompted.

He chewed and swallowed, then said slowly, “I like it.”

Tony’s smirk was absolutely triumphant. “Of course you do.” He pushed his plate towards the center of the table and nodded at it, waiting until Soldat reached out to claim a second bite before he beckoned a waiter over and directed a torrent of words at him.

“What’d you just say?” Soldat asked around his mouthful of pasta and truly amazing sauce.

“Patience, my dear Padassassin. You’ll see when it gets here.” Tony reached over to help himself to one of the little pouches on Soldat’s plate, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Soldat might have argued, but that would mean taking his attention away from the plate, so he just grunted and shoveled another bite into his mouth. It didn’t take long for the waiter to reappear, bearing a large tray that he set on the table next to them. He started putting plates out on their table - a stack of what looked like fried chicken with a fragrant green branch on top, a thick, perfectly round steak in a thin sauce, skewers of meat that glistened mixed with something that looked like it had bacon wrapped around it, and another thick piece of something that smelled heavenly even though it had - “Are those - is that a _tentacle_?”

Tony’s laugh rang out through the space around them, although the waiter seemed far less amused as he set a shallow bowl with clams and other things swimming in a broth on the table. “Ohhh, Freezer Bear, never change,” he said with a grin. “It’s octopus, but trust me, it’s -”

“Let me guess - amazing?” Soldat asked dryly, giving Tony a look that told him that he wasn’t buying that shit.

Tony just smirked at him again, cut himself a bite of the disgusting thing, and popped it in his mouth. “Delicious!” he proclaimed, flourishing his fork in the air. “C’mon, try something. Try all of it. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

Of course he wouldn’t. His Learning to Human lessons had resulted in him eating things he’d never even have thought of - pizza with arugula on it, noodles with bits of chicken and egg, a whole meal that was nothing but tiny plates, and, of all things, sushi. As in, pieces of raw fish and rice that was tastier than it had any right to be. And without fail, nothing had been a disappointment, although Soldat didn’t think he’d be asking for any kind of leafy greens on his pizza anytime soon.

With that in mind, Soldat brushed the green branch off the chicken and started with that. And just like always, Tony was right - it was delicious, even if it didn’t taste exactly like he remembered fried chicken tasting. When he said as much, Tony laughed again and informed him that it was because it was rabbit and not chicken. Soldat added rabbit to the slowly growing list of things he liked, pushed the plate with its last piece on it over to Tony, and started in on the steak.

And that was... Soldat had no words for it, because nothing he knew could come close to describing it. He took another bite and heard himself moan with pleasure, but there was no way he could stop it, not when the steak all but melted in his mouth, rich and warm and juicy and so, _so_ good. It was tempting to forget about everything but that steak, but he managed to let Tony feed him some of the other dishes in between bites, and when at last they were finished and there was nothing left but empty plates with smears of sauce and garnish, Soldat sat back with a happy sigh.

Tony smiled at him across the table. “So what’s the verdict? And I’d ask about dessert, but I have other plans for that.”

“It was good,” Soldat said readily, smiling just at the memory of that heavenly steak. “I liked the steak.”

“I noticed,” Tony commented, and it was only then that Soldat realized that he’d eaten the entire thing himself. He looked guiltily at the empty plate, but Tony just shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you liked it that much.” Tony waved the waiter over, handed his credit card to him, then said something too fast and low for Soldat to catch without straining, and he was too well-fed and content to bother. “So we can add steak to the Likes list, huh?”

Soldat nodded. “But the octopus was...” He hesitated. It hadn’t been _bad_ \- nothing they’d eaten that night had even come close to bad. But it didn’t compare with the steak or the rabbit.

Tony laughed again. “Got it. But you get credit for trying it, at least. Thor and St - some of the others wouldn’t even do that.”

“It’s okay to say Steve,” Soldat said quietly. He knew Tony tried to avoid mentioning him, and he appreciated that, but he knew Steve, along with the other Avengers, had become a big part of Tony’s life. A part that he’d basically set aside when he’d brought Soldat home with him. “I’m not going to run away just because you mentioned him.”

“Yeah, I guess he is kinda the patriotic elephant in the room, huh?” Tony took a drink of his wine and leaned back in his chair, fixing Soldat with one of those disconcertingly direct looks that he always gave him when their talks turned serious. “So does all this new openness mean you’re ready to talk to him? Cause I’m not sure how much longer I can lie to Captain Freaking America without risking deportation or the fifth circle of Hell, at the very least.”

He should, he really should. But the thought of facing Steve, of trying to explain everything that had happened to him... “I don’t know.”

Tony nodded, like he understood perfectly. “Take your time. Just remember, when he finds out you’ve been with me the whole time, I’m a squishy, breakable human without any superserum, so I’m counting on you to protect me.”

Soldat snorted. He’d gone a few rounds with Tony in that suit of his, and he had to admit, if only to himself, that Iron Man probably could’ve given him a run for his money even when he’d been working with HYDRA. “You didn’t strike me as the type to hide behind a big, strong man,” he pointed out, grinning when Tony blushed and shifted in his seat.

“Yeah, okay,” he admitted. “But hey, I’m secure enough in my masculinity to be the damsel sometimes, too.”

That sounded... like Tony was talking about more than just not wanting to get beaten up. Soldat folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Yeah?”

Tony leaned forward as well, looking right at him. “Yeah.”

********

One moment Tony was humming along with AC/DC while he tinkered with Soldat’s arm, and the next a sharp, stinging pain on the back of his neck jerked him right out of his happy place. “Ow!”

“You’ll be lucky if that’s all I do to you after that little stunt of yours,” Pepper snapped, shoving the folded-up paper in her hand at him. Dammit, he _hated_ tabloids - they stung way more than the usual papers when he was hit with them.

“What little stunt are we talking about, here? Cause if this is about my AmEx bill, then I gotta say that those purchases are not at all what I thought they were. I’d been up for, like, 32 hours and there was this infomercial and -”

“Tony, as much as I’d love to stand here while you talk yourself into yet another hole, it’s not about your AmEx bill,” Pepper interrupted, and wow, it really shouldn’t be possible to fit that much emotion into one sentence. She pointed at the paper. “Take a look.”

He unfolded it to see a picture of himself and Soldat at dinner three nights ago. They were smiling at each other, obviously enjoying themselves, and he started to shrug and hand the paper back, when the headline sank in. If he’d been asked, Tony would’ve said he might’ve expected something about Soldat being Bucky Barnes and the link to Cap, or possibly him going bad since he was out with the infamous Winter Soldier, but he really wouldn’t have predicted seeing **TONY STARK SEEN OUT WITH NEW MYSTERY MAN!** splashed across the cover of the _Tattler_. Although, to be honest, he should have. The _Tattler_ always did care more about who he was dating than anything else.

The only thing was, he wasn’t dating Soldat. Not that he’d be opposed to it - he really didn’t think anybody with eyes could _not_ want to at least take him for a test drive. It was more that he wasn’t sure Soldat was in a place where he could even be asked for a date. Sixty-some odd years of brainwashing had pretty much done a number on the guy’s ability to say no or make independent decisions, and then there was the whole question of whether he was even into guys and how the 1940s outlook on things would color it all. But most of that could be dealt with later. “Did you call Legal?”

“Of course, but they can’t exactly proceed until they know how things stand.”

“Why would you call Legal about Tony and I having dinner together?” Soldat asked, tilting his head to look at the picture.

Pepper gave Tony one of her patented ‘I-don’t-have-time-to-deal-with-this-nonsense’ Looks, and Tony quickly folded the tabloid back up before Soldat could see anything more than the headline. “Just one of the less than fun parts of the billionaire package,” he assured Soldat. “But I’d probably better take care of it. You mind staying here with DUM-E for a little bit?”

Soldat looked puzzled, but nodded, and Tony set his tool aside. “Great! Go ahead and put that through some of its paces, let me know if it’s still catching when I get back, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, he stood up and headed for the doors. “C’mon, Pep, let’s get this over with.”

He heard her say something quiet to Soldat and get an equally soft response before he heard the click of her heels following him. They got into the elevator, and thankfully Pepper waited until the doors slid closed before she let him have it. “Okay, Tony, you mind telling me just what the hell’s going on with you two?”

“I don’t suppose you’d let it go if I said I did mind?” he asked, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to get away with it. When Pepper gave him another Look, he punched the button for the penthouse and sighed. “It’s... complicated.”

Pepper folded her arms, and Tony gave her about thirty seconds before she grabbed the tabloid out of his hand and hit him with it again. “So uncomplicate it.”

He rubbed his forehead. “It was just dinner. Two people eating dinner together, that’s all. It’s not anything more than that.”

“But you want it to be,” she pointed out.

Pepper always did know how to get right to the heart of the issue. He’d always loved her for that, even as he’d despised that particular skill set more than once. “That doesn’t matter. You can tell Legal to go after the _Tattler_ with a clear conscience.”

She shook her head. “There really isn’t much there to stand on,” she sighed. “It’s mostly just speculation, a few photos of you two along with some old ones of you and Cap, and you and Bruce. And they mentioned the whole thing with...” She waved a hand in the air. “You know.”

“Ty,” he said heavily. That was always where these rags went when they were trying to pair him up with a guy. Never mind the few discrete relationships he’d had since - no, what the tabloids loved were the pictures of him and Ty out clubbing, hanging all over each other, hair messy and lips swollen from making out. They’d never cared about photographers or publicity, so there had been plenty of both. Really, it was probably a good thing both Howard and Ty’s old man were gone by then, since one of them would almost certainly have had a heart attack over the whole affair.

“Yeah.” She gave him a sympathetic smile just as the doors slid open at the penthouse, but she didn’t push him for anything else until they’d headed into the living room and Tony had poured himself a healthy scotch. “The good news is that it’s... well, it’s the _Tattler_.”

Tony took a drink and nodded. “So we can’t sue ‘em for libel, and we can’t just buy ‘em and shut ‘em down - unless you think Jameson’s up for selling if we raise the last offer?”

Pepper laughed and shook her head. “Not a chance. The money might tempt him, but he’s not about to let everyone know he owns the _Tattler_ by selling it to you.”

“Yeah, I keep forgetting that he’s all about being a ‘respectable journalist’ and shit.” Tony took another swallow. “I know it’s probably a waste of breath to ask, but did Legal come up with anything, or are they still singing the same ol’ Ignore, Deny, Change the Subject song?”

“That’s pretty much it,” Pepper told him. She took out her phone and started scrolling through it. “I can see about setting you up with a feature story, maybe something about that new project you were wanting to start up with the guide dogs at the VA.”

Tony considered that for a second, then shook his head. “No. We’re not using that as some kind of public distraction.” It was too important to make that part of the usual dog and pony show that followed his personal scandals.

“So what do you want to do about it, then?” When he didn’t answer immediately, Pepper walked over to him, setting her phone down on the counter as she waited for him to look at her. “Tony. You know I’m behind you no matter what you want, right?”

God, he really didn’t deserve Pepper. “Yeah, I know.” He finished his drink and pulled her into a hug. Not for the first time, he wished that things had just worked out with her - it would’ve made all of this so much _easier_. But then, nothing in his life had been easy up to this point, so he guessed there was no point in starting now. Taking a deep breath, Tony took a step back and gave Pepper a decent impression of his usual cocky grin. “Tell Legal we’re putting out a statement. No comment about personal relationships, yadda, yadda. You know the drill - pretty it all up and send it off.”

She nodded and gave him another quick hug. “And in the meantime, you might want to get down there and have a talk with that man of yours so the paparazzi doesn’t eat him alive next time he wants to go out for coffee.” When Tony opened his mouth to point out that Soldat wasn’t even close to being a ‘man of his’, Pepper gave him a shove. “Don’t even try, Tony. You want to take a ride on that particular disco stick so bad you can taste it, and we both know it.”

“Maybe, but he’s not exactly - he’s still learning how to be a _person_ , Pep!” Tony protested. “That’s really not the best time to get involved with anyone, but especially me.”

Pepper gave him an exasperated look. “Tony, don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s _never_ a ‘best time’ to get involved with you.”

“Hey, that’s -”

“Accurate,” she said firmly. “Trust me, Tony. I’ve been there and I _know_. You’re a workaholic superhero with personal issues a mile wide, and you’re constantly in the spotlight. If it isn’t SI-related, it’s Avengers business. That’s never going to change, and you know it, even if you won’t admit it. Honestly, another screwed-up superhero’s probably the closest you’re gonna get to having someone that understands you enough to have a solid, lasting relationship.” She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Think about it. That’s all I’m saying.”

Tony mumbled a noncommittal, “Yeah, okay,” and Pepper smiled and patted his arm, then turned around and headed for the elevator.

“I’ll take care of the statement,” she said as she stepped inside and turned around to face him. “And I’ll have another one waiting for when you get your head out of your ass and decide to go public with Barnes.”

The doors slid closed before Tony could manage to say anything. Trust Pepper to get that last word in, no matter what. Tony glared at the elevator and seriously considered having JARVIS tell Soldat he was quitting for the day so he could get good and drunk. But that would just lead to Soldat coming upstairs, and at least in the workshop he had projects to occupy himself with if he decided to go insane and take Pepper’s advice about making a move. He paused long enough to finish his drink off, one last swallow for courage, before he went down to face the music.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artwork for chapter by potofsoup can be found [here](https://78.media.tumblr.com/937ca34a8c6eeaa1cde2cdfdcf123de6/tumblr_palugpERxu1rjbawio6_1280.jpg)

“Mr Barnes, your presence is requested downstairs.”

Soldat rolled his head so he could look up at the ceiling. “Tell Tony I’m busy.”

“And just what shall I say is occupying your time? I feel quite sure Mr Stark will not agree with your present definition of ‘busy’ as it pertains to The Real Housewives.”

Soldat grinned at the dry tone. He’d gotten more comfortable with JARVIS over the past few months, particularly once he’d gotten the computer to stop addressing him as ‘Sergeant Barnes’. That title belonged to Bucky, not to him, and it had been a relief to shed it. “You don’t have to tell him what I’m watching,” he said to JARVIS. “Just tell him I’m working on my, uh, my modern knowledge base.”

JARVIS didn’t hesitate before replying, “I’m certain Mr Stark will be happy to know that you’re attempting to rejoin the modern age, Mr Barnes. But I should point out that continued efforts to ignore his summons will likely only result in him coming upstairs to seek you out.”

That had been true more often than not. Soldat made a face at the thought of abandoning his comfy spot on the couch for the noise and bustle of the workshop. “Did he say what he wants? Cause if it’s about supper, I’m fine with ordering in tonight.”

There was a brief pause as JARVIS checked in with Tony. “Mr Stark has instructed me to tell you that if you are not in the workshop within the next five minutes, he will send DUM-E and the Iron Man suit to retrieve you.”

“Okay, I can see why he’d send the suit, but does he really think DUM-E’s gonna work as a threat?” Soldat asked. “The little guy’s harmless.” Well, not if you listened to Tony, but Soldat knew just how fond of the bot Tony really was.

“Mr Stark says he will give DUM-E the industrial fire extinguisher and tell him that there is a fire in the penthouse,” JARVIS said dryly.

Soldat scowled at the ceiling, well aware that Tony was probably watching him argue with JARVIS on the video feed. “That’s playing dirty,” he pointed out, but he sat up and reached for the remote all the same. “Tell him not to get DUM-E all wound up; I’m on my way.”

He really did meant to turn off the TV, but that was before he caught sight of Pepper behind the podium with the banner **STARK INDUSTRIES COMMENTS ON TONY STARK’S LATEST SCANDAL** at the bottom. Latest scandal? What the hell was that about? “Hang on,” he said absently, turning the volume up. “Tell Tony something just came up.”

“Mr Barnes, I really think that -”

“Shut up. I wanna hear this.” Soldat knew he being rude to JARVIS and he’d apologize later, but right now, he was more concerned with finding out what was going on.

“- does not make a habit of commenting on Mr Stark’s personal life,” Pepper was saying on the TV. “And I don’t see how Mr Stark’s history should have any bearing on this particular matter.” She looked cool and controlled as she pointed to someone and said, “Robert?”

Soldat couldn’t hear the question that the man asked, but he could see by the way Pepper’s nostrils flared slightly that she didn’t care for it. “I’m not going to speculate about that, Robert,” she said icily. “Mr Stark, while a public figure, _does_ enjoy a certain right to privacy. But if you’d like to put that question to him yourself, then by all means, feel free. Jessica?”

This question seemed to be more to her liking, but Soldat didn’t really pay attention to her answer, because the screen switched to a picture of Tony and.. him? This whole thing was about him?!? Had the world found out who he was, what he’d done? Were they trying to blame Tony for it, saying that Tony having him here was a scandal?

Soldat turned the TV off and got to his feet, shoving a hand through his hair. He knew what he should do in this situation - exposure meant danger, meant flight and hiding until he was contacted with new coordinates and Orders. But HYDRA was gone; he was free of them, learning to be his own person, learning to be a human again, and humans didn’t hide and wait for Orders. Tony didn’t, Pepper didn’t, Steve didn’t, and Soldat knew he shouldn’t, either.

Turning on his heel, he strode over to the elevator and punched the button, then changed his mind and took the stairs instead. He made it as far as the garage before Tony intercepted him. “Hey, y’know, if you’re planning on making an ice cream run, it’s generally polite to check with everyone to see if they want anything before you leave.”

Soldat turned to look at him, and Tony held his hands out, palms open. “I wasn’t going for -”

“I know.” Tony took a step towards him and Soldat could feel himself tense up, but he forced himself not to take that step back. “You gonna tell me where you were headed?”

“I - I don’t know.” He swallowed and shook his head. “There was - I saw -”

“Yeah, JARVIS told me about it,” Tony said, his voice so even and controlled, so much like Soldat used to be that it was enough to make Soldat want to tear Tony’s throat out for a second. And that horrified him, enough to push him back several steps. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Soldat shook his head again. “No, it’s not.” Not when he’d just pictured himself killing Tony because those cool tones had spoken to that part of himself that he hated and feared in equal measure, the part bathed in blood and wreathed in detachment that had ruled over all for so many years.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Seriously, Pepper’s got it under control.” Tony put a hand out. “C’mon, we’ll go back into the workshop and I’ll explain every-”

“I can’t stay here!” Soldat yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls. “They’ll come looking for me and I’ll have to -” And he wasn’t sure what would be worse, hurting and killing people again, or leaving after he did that. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to give up dinners with Tony and lazy afternoon TV and bickering about the new improvements on his arm and playing fetch with DUM-E and listening to Tony argue with JARVIS about his eating and sleeping habits. He didn’t want to go back into hiding.

“What? Wait, what are you talking about? Who do you think is gonna come -” Tony paused and stared at him for a second. “Is this about Steve?”

Soldat hadn’t even thought about Steve, but he probably should have. Steve had been looking for him before this, and now he’d know just where to find him. And he’d know Tony had been lying to him, too. “No, but - I mean, it’s - they know I’m here,” he said slowly, trying to make sure Tony knew what was going on, that he was aware of the situation.

Tony was watching him with a wary look, almost like his marks had right before he’d slit their throats or snapped their necks or put a bullet in their brains. “Who knows, Arctic Char?”

“Everybody!” Soldat glared at Tony. “Everybody knows I’m here, and they’re going to come get me and take me away!”

********

Some days Tony really, really wished he hadn’t bothered to get out of bed. Today was absolutely shaping up to be one of those days, particularly since it was involving talking an increasingly unstable super soldier down off the ledge. “Look, it’s okay,” he said, trying to keep his voice as even and soothing as possible. “Nobody’s going to hurt you. You’re safe here, remember? You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to.”

That kind of reminder was usually enough to calm Soldat down when he got antsy, but today it just seemed to agitate him more, because he glared at Tony and shot back, “We were _seen_! Those stupid Human Lessons of yours compromised me! This is why you had Pepper talking to Legal, isn’t it? Because you knew this was going to happen!”

Everything slotted into place in Tony’s brain with dizzying speed. “Wait. This is - so you aren’t mad about - oh my God.” He couldn’t help it; he started to laugh. “Oh, thank God.”

“It’s not funny!” Soldat spat, and Tony would probably worry about getting tackled by nearly 200 pounds of pure muscle if he weren’t so fucking _relieved_.

He tried to talk, but ended up waving his hand in the air for a few seconds while he struggled to stop laughing first. Finally he managed to gasp, “J, engage full lockdown, media and communication blackout for two hours, wouldja?”

“Of course, Sir.”

Headlights flashed and alarms chirped as all the cars shut down, and once he managed to calm down, Tony wiped his eyes and grinned at Soldat. “Okay, so let’s get one thing straight: nobody knows who you are and you’re not on any wanted list or anything. So far as the world knows, the Winter Soldier died on the helicarrier - there was a body found and everything. Now, yeah, HYDRA knows it wasn’t you, but they’re kinda on the run right now, so they’re not exactly in a position to muster a force to come Frosty-hunting, and if they want to give a shot, I’m more than happy to put my Iron Legion and the latest Mark up against whatever they’ve got any day, okay?”

He watched the reprieve sink in, then saw puzzlement follow close on its heels. “Look, I promise I’ll explain everything, but let’s go back to the workshop first, all right? This isn’t exactly a conversation I wanna have in the middle of the garage.”

Soldat stared at him for a minute, then slowly nodded and gestured for him to go first. Great, so they were back to that. Tony glared at him, but turned around and started for the elevator, trusting Soldat to follow him. Once they were inside, he hit the button for the workshop and said, “So, I know this all looks bad, what with the whole press conference and all, but it’s really not a big deal.”

Soldat crossed his arms over his chest and gave him an unimpressed Look that could’ve given Pepper’s a run for its money. “Are you usually on national TV over nothing?”

“Honestly? I’ve been on national TV for all sorts of shit, and most of it was bullshit, right, J?”

“My particular favorite was your appearance before the Senate Armed Services Committee, Sir,” JARVIS stated. “I can have the highlights reel sent to Mr Barnes’ tablet if you’d like.”

Tony grinned. “Just as long as that includes me humiliating Hammer and making the senator cuss me out, sure thing.”

Soldat stared at him. “A senator swore at you. And it was bullshit.”

“Said ‘fuck you’, plain as day, right there on that precious national television of yours,” Tony told him, and God, that was never going to stop being a sweet memory. “He wanted my suit, and thought he could bully me into handing it over or making more for the government. When I wouldn’t play ball, he tried to start shit with me, but we threw down, cause we’re badass gangstas like that, ain’t we, J?”

“Indubitably, Sir.” And Tony had no idea where JARVIS had acquired that dry sense of humor, but he really loved it.

The doors slid open and they headed out into the workshop, where DUM-E rolled up to them, bumping both of them before he moved away to allow them to go over to the couch. Tony sat down and turned to face Soldat. “Look, this whole thing... I probably shoulda thought about it before we started going out for dinner, but I’ve never been too good at looking ahead - Pepper could tell you that, since she’s usually the one picking up after me, and besides, I guess I’ve gotten too used to all of it -”

“All of what?” Soldat interrupted, frowning at him again.

“The tabloid shit.” But Soldat didn’t seem any less puzzled, so Tony sighed and backed up. “You know, getting followed and photographed? Rumors starting up any time I spend more than two minutes alone with someone? Or sometimes even just look at them for more than thirty seconds, if the fangirls on the internet are to be believed? And don’t go looking on the internet - it’s a scary, scary place.”

“Rumors about... you and me having dinner?”

“Yeee-eeeees,” Tony said slowly. “Hence the whole press conference, to tell all of the busybodies to fuck off, that it’s none of their business who I date or if I date or -”

“Date,” Soldat said flatly. “They thought it was - that we were -” He gestured between them, and Tony nodded.

“Yeah, that was the whole thing with the paper last week. Big deal about me dating for the first time since Pepper and I broke up, wondering who the mystery man is, all that kinda bullshit.” Tony shrugged. “You can figure it out. Same shit I’ve been dealing with since I was, like, fifteen.”

Soldat looked down for a minute, then said quietly, “You said Pepper was upset about SI business, that you’d done something that might cost the company money. You didn’t say it had anything to do with us having dinner.”

Shit. He should’ve known that his cowardice was going to come back to bite him in the ass. “Yeah, I know,” Tony admitted. “I was gonna say something, but I didn’t know how to - I mean, I didn’t wanna -” He sighed. “I didn’t want you to say we’d have to stop.”

“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Soldat asked, and Christ, he was just so fucking adorable. Of course, this meant Tony had to figure out how to explain not only his massive crush but the cowardice that had kept him from saying anything about it.

He could do this. Just ease him into it, start small and work up. Yeah, that was the way to go about it. “Well, dating me tends to bring things like paparazzi and speculation about your sex life on TV shows - oh, and then there’s supervillains and kidnappings, and you have to put up with me, and I forget anniversaries and birthdays and stuff like that and -”

But apparently none of that mattered to Soldat, because he leaned forward and cut Tony off by sealing his mouth over Tony’s. When Tony started to try to say something, Soldat kissed him again until he shut up, then Soldat said, “I like you. I don’t care about anniversaries or birthdays, and I can take care of any supervillains or kidnappers.”

Oh. Yeah, he hadn’t thought of that. It looked like there was a serious upside to getting involved with another superhero that he hadn’t even considered. Not to mention, that supersoldier serum probably added up to some serious flexibility and stamina in the bedroom. Add in the muscles that he’d already gotten a good look at, and he was in for some really good times....

“Tony?”

“Huh?” Shit. Tony snapped himself back to reality to see Soldat staring at him with an amused look that said he knew where Tony’s mind had just gone. “Yeah. I - yeah. I’m good with that.”

Soldat looked suddenly uncomfortable. “We don’t need to have a press conference, do we?”

Tony laughed. “No, we can skip that part. If it comes to it, we’ll just get Pep a couple pairs of special-order Louboutins and she can take care of it for us.” He leaned in to kiss Soldat, and he could seriously make this a second career. Or maybe a third...

“Sir, I realize that you requested a communications blackout, but Captain Rogers is on the phone,” JARVIS interrupted. “He is most insistent on speaking with you, and says that if you will not take the call, he will -.”

“I can guess,” Tony said, breaking off with a smile. He rested his forehead against Soldat’s and looked at him. “Rain check?”

Soldat shook his head. “He’s not gonna stay away, you know that,” he pointed out. “May as well enjoy ourselves until he gets here.” He pulled Tony back into another kiss, and while Tony had no idea who had taught that man to kiss, he certainly owed them, because those kisses were more than worth whatever hell Captain America was going to rain down on him for ignoring his call.

He pulled away just long enough to gasp, “J, take a message,” before moving in for more. Somehow he doubted there was ever really going to be such a thing as ‘enough’ when it came to kissing Soldat.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found rambling about Loki, Tony, The Winter Soldier, and many other things on Tumblr - feel free to join me [here](https://darklingdawns.tumblr.com/)!


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